


Supernatural One Shots and Stories

by cpetie81



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Romance, Smut, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-10-26 09:39:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10784241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpetie81/pseuds/cpetie81
Summary: A collection of SPN one shots and short stories.  Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, possibly some smut.  Enjoy!





	1. Neck Deep, Part 1

Dean wished he’d known when to stop. He really did. Yet again, he had lost track of how many drinks he’d had about an hour and a half into the time at just another local bar. He kept his eyes on you discreetly as you subtly flirted with the brooding bartender. Tall, dark, and handsome, Dean thought bitterly. Just your type. Might as well get lost in another girl’s body tonight. He knew he couldn’t take you to bed, after all. He knew you didn’t love him as anything more than a brother and a friend.  
Dean gulped down another drink, ignoring the delicious burn and basking in the liquid buzz. With difficulty, he tore his eyes away from you and scanned the bar, zeroing in on a sexy brunette. She had long, lean legs, a full chest, and a drastically slim waist. She’ll do, Dean thought with a forced grin in Sam’s direction. “Well, I won’t be home tonight!” Dean exclaimed, plastering a smirk on his features. “Don’t wait up.”  
Sam glanced up from his laptop, rolling his eyes in disgust. “Of course you won’t, Dean. Just, let me ask you something first.” Dean raised an eyebrow and nodded for his brother to continue. “When are you going to tell Y/N?”  
Dean snorted. “Tell Y/N what? There’s nothing to tell, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With one quick waggle of his eyebrows, he was heading in the brunette’s direction.

 

You twirled your fingers through the ends of your hair, absentmindedly flirting with the handsome bartender. What was his name, Chad? Yeah, Chad, that was it. “So, my shift ends in twenty minutes,” Chad murmured to you. “You wanna get out of here after that?”  
A seductive smirk made its way across your face. “I’d like that,” you purred, doing your best to keep him interested.  
You had put in maximum effort to look sexy tonight. Your hair was in loose waves, your eyes were emphasized with a subtle smokey eye, and you wore a fitted tank top, leather jacket, and leggings that made your ass look out of this world. The leggings were just the right balance of sheer and opaque, so that when you bent over the bar, the visible outline of your lace panties wasn’t so obvious that you looked like a hooker. Clearly your efforts had paid off, seeing as you’d caught the attention of the third most attractive person in the bar, following the Winchester brothers, of course.  
Your eyes wandered as your conversation with Chad continued. As you gazed throughout the room, your eyes landed on Dean, his arm around a busty blonde. A stab of jealousy surged through your body.  
You needed to leave.  
“You know what, Chad, I’ll meet you outside, alright?” You said. “I need a bit of fresh air to clear my head from all those drinks.”  
The attractive man smiled widely. “I’ll see you out front after my shift, then we can go to my place.”  
You nodded and leaned across the bar to kiss his chiseled cheek before heading outside to get a breath.

 

Dean couldn’t believe his eyes. There you were, your gorgeous lips pressed to the bartender’s cheek. Jealousy swept over him, clouding his eyesight, which was focused on your perfect ass as you walked out the door. Where were you going? Were you not going to hook up with the bartender? At that thought, relief freshened his head.  
As he stood to follow you, now ignoring the girl he had his arm around, he realized how goddamn drunk he really was. Dean hadn’t felt legitimately drunk in ages, but ever since you had started hunting with him and Sam, he had been drinking more and more- just to get you off his mind.  
You were everything to him. Hell, you were just as important to him as Sammy was, just in very, very different ways. He’d lay his life down for you, no questions asked. Dean hadn’t been in love since Lisa, and he was afraid that even those feelings were nothing compared to the way he felt about you.  
His thoughts were interrupted by his feet mindlessly stumbling away from the tipsy brunette and towards where you had exited. The girl’s voice echoed in his ears, but he gave her no response.  
When Dean made it outside, the first thing he saw was you. You were leaned up against the brick wall, and he could tell that despite your cool-girl exterior, you were neck-deep in thought. “Hey,” Dean slurred as he approached you. “You alright, sweetheart?”  
You glanced up, a small smile gracing your beautiful lips at his presence, and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Are you okay?” You asked. Dean could tell you were concerned about his current state.  
“Yeah, just…I don’t know.” Something in the back of his mind tugged at his consciousness, urging him to declare his feelings for her. Sam’s words rang in Dean’s mind. When are you going to tell her?  
What the fuck. Why not now?

 

You looked at Dean, seeing how his beautiful green eyes were bloodshot and unfocused as he tried to talk to you. He swayed ever-so-slightly on his feet, his broad shoulders tilting down. “I love you,” he suddenly blurted out. You paled immediately, then fought the blush that threatened to stain your cheeks.  
“Um…Dean? How drunk are you?” You forced a chuckle. “Let’s get you home. I’ll get Sam to drive. I have plans after this. Uh…are you sure you’re alright?”  
You couldn’t see his face as you turned away, trying not to succumb to the tears of frustration that welled up in your eyes. You knew this was some sort of shitty joke Dean had come up with, probably since he was so drunk. After all, when he was sober, all he did was hold you at arm’s length, never letting you any closer. He didn’t love you. That would be stupid of you to even consider that as being possibly true.  
Fuck this.  
You slowly turned back around, ready to go inside and fetch Sam, but you were stopped short at Dean’s expression. His face…he looked absolutely crushed. He looked broken.  
“What…what’s wrong, Dean?” You asked, brushing your hair out of your face with your unmanicured fingers.  
“You. You’re what’s wrong, Y/N. Damn it, why can’t you jus- you just need to see how much I love you!” He exclaimed, sounding slightly less drunk that before. “I’m so in love with you, it hurts. I spend every waking minute afraid of losin-”  
He was cut off by your name being called by a deep voice. You both looked over and saw Chad the bartender sauntering closer, one eyebrow cocked at Dean’s presence. “Who’s this? Is he bothering you?” Chad asked, puffing out his chest. He was more muscular than both Dean and Sam, and was about the same height as Dean. However, you knew that if it came down to it, Chuck forbid, Dean could beat Chad with ease. You wouldn’t let a fight start, though. That’d be counterproductive.  
Before you could answer Chad, Dean stepped forward, until they were nose to nose. “I’m her boyfriend,” Dean hissed.  
Chad recoiled, looking nearly as shocked as you felt. What the fuck? “Dean, what the hell?” You asked. “What is wrong with you?” You turned to Chad. “We aren’t dating. He’s my friend, and he’s wasted. I’m so sorry. Are you ready to-”  
Chad shook his head and turned to leave. “Whatever is going on here, I’m not getting in the middle of it,” he said sternly. “Good luck, Y/N.” With that, he was gone.

 

Dean wasn’t sure what just happened. All he knew was that when that asshole asked if he was bothering you, he saw red. As if he could ever bother you. You always put up with him.  
“Dean!” You yelled. “Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Before he could speak, you continued. “I had the chance to forget about all this stupid bullshit for once, but you had to go and ruin it! Goddammit Dean!”  
He opened his mouth, but didn’t have any idea what to say- so he leaned in and kissed you. Your lips were silky-soft and warm, inviting him to get lost in you.  
He was jerked back to reality when you pulled away. “What is going on, Dean?” Your eyes were the epitome of sad and shocked. Why? He wondered. Then it hit him. You didn’t like him, you didn’t love him…shit.  
You continued to talk. “Why would you say all that and kiss me, just because you’re drunk?” You demanded. “I’m not stupid, you know. Just…just go, Dean. I need to be alone right now.”  
His head whirled, and he ached to kiss you again, to feel your lips on his, your hands on his face, your body against his-  
His thoughts were cut off by you walking away slowly, dragging your feet with your head hanging. Had he just fucked everything up?  
Yeah. He had.

 

After you had walked back to the motel, ignoring Dean’s futile attempts to drive you back (he was extremely drunk and stupid at that time), you let the tears wash over you. Stupid fucking life, you thought bitterly. Of course, the one night you were willing to get your mind off things, he must play a prank on you- a terribly unfunny prank. You were so incredibly hurt.  
Tears streamed down your face, blurring away makeup and dripping onto the floor. You were so stupid. You shouldn’t have been hunting with them this long, you realized. It was past time for you to go solo again.  
Your things were packed in a matter of minutes. You took the time to write a quick note to each of the boys.  
Dear Sam,  
Thank you for everything- for being like my brother, especially. You always made me smile and laugh, even in the worst of moods. I love you boys more than anything, but I realize that I’ve overstayed my welcome, even if you guys don’t see that. You two work best together, on your own. I work best alone. I’ll keep in touch. I’ll miss you, Sam. Stay safe, and keep Dean in line for me, alright?  
Love, Y/N

Dear Dean,  
This was all too much for me. I love you, more than as a brother and a friend. I’m in love with you, Dean. It just hurt too much tonight, seeing you with that girl, then you coming out and telling me you love me and telling Chad that you’re my boyfriend. I know it was a joke. It wasn’t a funny joke, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Anyway, like I told Sam, I’ve stayed too long. I’ll keep in touch, but please don’t track me down. It’s not worth your time. Both of you, be careful, and watch the drinking. It worries both me and Sam.  
Love, Y/N

 

By the time Dean and Sam had arrived back at the motel, Dean had sobered up quite a bit, and had gotten a well-deserved earful from Sam. “When I said to tell her, I didn’t mean like this!” Sam had scolded. “She’s obviously upset with you. She loves you, Dean, and she probably took it as a harsh drunk joke! After all, that’s what you do.”  
Tears sparkled in Dean’s glassy green eyes. “I know I fucked up,” he muttered. He knew it, and it hurt. He just couldn’t wait to apologize and put all this behind you guys, starting fresh and hopefully you listening to him when he was sober and more believable. Tomorrow, he would tell you that he truly did love you.  
The motel door squeaked open to reveal a dark and empty room.  
“Y/N? You in here?” Dean called as he entered, while Sam walked in behind him.  
You were gone. He knew it. He couldn’t smell your sweet perfume or hear your slow, steady breaths. The bathroom door was open, and the beds were made. Your belongings were gone.  
You were gone.  
A piece of paper with large, loopy handwriting was shoved into his shaking hands. As he read it, tears began to fall. “No…no…NO!” He shouted, smashing his fist into the wall and creating a gaping hole. He could picture you writing the letter, tears slipping out every so often and creating those crinkled little smudges on the paper.  
He looked up at Sam, guilt and hurt overtaking all other emotions. Sam was glaring at him, livid. “This is all your fault!” He yelled. “If you hadn’t been such a damn idiot, Y/N would still be here!”  
It was his fault. Dean had fucked it all up, and now you were gone. For good.


	2. Neck Deep, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the first chapter! Dean x Reader, fluff and angst.

It was eleven months to the day since you’d left the Winchester brothers. You’d long since ditched your old phone numbers, choosing to rely on a single new one with a Chicago area code. Chicago had been your home for nearly ten months now, ever since Ellis, the man with the gentle brown eyes and coiffed dark hair, had won you over. It was nice to feel wanted and loved, you thought. And Ellis was great- he really was. He brought you a different type of bouquet every Sunday, each gathering of flowers even more beautiful than the last. He took you out to dinner at elegant restaurants, paid for every date, and even invited you to move in with him six months ago. His penthouse was exquisite, to say the least. You adored the perfectly unobstructed view of Lake Michigan, and while the place was elegant and modern and perfectly decorated, it lacked the feeling of home and comfort.  
It lacked Dean. Yes, of course it was nice to be taken care of and wanted and cherished, but you were out of place in the posh, ritzy lifestyle Ellis lived. It wasn’t you. You were baggy sweatshirts and slippers on nights in, not flawlessly tailored cocktail dresses and evening gowns at fancy events. You preferred your hair in a messy bun on hunts and tousled waves on nights out. You secretly hated the way you looked with your hair pulled back in a tight updo. It was austere and awkward to see on yourself. As much as you cared for Ellis, this way of life just wasn’t for you.  
“Y/N, babe, are you ready?” Ellis called, his voice bouncing around the echoing penthouse. “The car is waiting outside.”  
“I’m coming,” you shouted back, before turning to look in the full-length mirror. Black pumps and a floor-sweeping silver gown were set off by diamond jewelry and a sleek chignon. Your lips were accentuated with deep crimson lipstick, and your eyes were sultry yet innocent. The war raging in your head was sickening. You looked gorgeous, but you didn’t look like yourself. You didn’t feel like yourself. At this point, you weren’t even sure if you liked yourself anymore.

“Dean, man, come on. In and out, remember? You’ll be fine.” Sam tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for his brother to finish getting ready for their hunt. They were in Chicago, hunting a demon who seemed to be targeting wealthy politicians of the infamously corrupt city. There was an event tonight- black tie, no less- celebrating some politician’s election as mayor. What was his name? Oh, right. Ellis Brooks. He was young, especially for a politician of such high caliber. He’d graduated from Stanford with a law degree, something Sam both envied and respected, thanks to his unfinished time there.  
Dean stepped out of the motel bathroom, grumbling something about hitting the bar right away. “Alright, I’m ready. How do I look, Sammy?”  
Sam snorted at Dean’s uncharacteristic enthusiasm. “You look flashy. You’ll fit in well. Now let’s go.”

You gripped Ellis’s hand tightly as the black Cadillac pulled up to the front of the event. There were cameras and crowds of people surrounding the entrance. It was overwhelming, and you were sure that Ellis sensed your anxiety when he ducked down to press a sweet kiss to the side of your neck. “Darling, don’t you worry. Everything will be okay. I promise. Just stick with me and only do or say what you’re comfortable with. Alright?”  
You forced a weak smile. “I’ll be alright. Thanks, Ellis. I love you.”  
As always, his face lit up with your affirmation. “I love you,” he whispered, gazing into your eyes.  
The two of you were interrupted by a gust of icy wind blowing through the now-open door. Cameras flashed and people yelled, all hoping to get the attention of your boyfriend, the newest mayor of Chicago. Your arms were linked, and that grounded you as you both walked up the steps. Snowflakes danced down, eliciting goosebumps on your bare arms.  
The beginning of the night was uneventful. You smiled and nodded in turn, greeting other high-ranking officials and CEOs and who knows who else. Your feet were aching, your cheeks hurt from all the fake laughter, and you were sick to death of the damn conversation topics. The ladies all wanted to gossip about each other like you were all in high school again. It was getting on your nerves.  
As the celebration drew to a close, Ellis was called to the stage for his speech. He’d practiced it on you countless times, as with all his other speeches. It warmed your heart, knowing that someone trusted your opinion and judgement enough to test the biggest speeches of their life on you. However, you had a nagging feeling in your gut, and you couldn’t quite tell if it was anxiety with an unknown cause, or if your rusty hunter instincts were starting to kick into gear for whatever reason. You’d have to keep your eyes open and be on alert, just to be safe.

Dean hated events like this. He hated that he’d mooched his way into an invitation by flirting with a young woman. She was some rich asshole’s daughter- blonde, cute, and giggly, with no sense of the real world at all. Her name was Nicole, and she’d brought Dean with as eye candy, no doubt. They didn’t know the slightest bit about each other, which was fine with him. Nicole could never measure up to Y/N. No one could. The past eleven months had been torture of the most hellacious kind without her there. Sure, he had Sam and whiskey, but what he needed was Y/N.  
Nicole leaned into Dean and whispered, “You know, if this speech gets boring, we could always go find an empty room and, you know, get to know each other.” Her words were laced with innuendo, but it barely enticed Dean. He’d just play along for now until he could find some sort of indication of demons.  
The microphone buzzed as a sharp-looking, dark-haired man cleared his throat into it. It was Mayor Ellis Brooks.  
“First of all, I’d like to thank every one of you ladies and gentlemen in attendance tonight, as well as the citizens of this wonderful city. I am both honored and proud to have been elected as mayor, and I cannot wait to do incredible things in our city. This is only the start of great things to come, I can assure you. But I believe in the strength of taking a reprieve from one’s day to day life, and that’s what I’m going to do now. I’d like to take a moment to honor someone near and dear to my heart. She’s not only helped me campaign, but she’s been there every night to support me and to encourage me, and to also call me out and keep me on the right track.” There was a brief pause before Ellis leaned forward and beckoned to someone sitting near the front of the stage. A young woman in a billowing silver dress stood up hesitantly, before taking his hand and climbing the steps to the stage.  
When she turned around to face the audience, Dean’s heart stopped, then shattered.  
Y/N was here. She was being introduced by the fucking mayor, who had his arm wrapped around her waist both gently and protectively. “May I introduce the woman who has been my rock for the past ten months, Y/N Y/L/N. I owe her everything.” As Ellis droned on, Dean’s eyes settled back on Y/N. She was beautiful, as always, but Dean knew she was uncomfortable just by her body stance and the reserved smile on her face. She’d lost noticeable weight, making her formerly soft curves sharper and more angular. Her beautiful eyes darted around looking lost and afraid, like she was searching for an escape route. They never settled on Dean, though. They never settled on anyone or anything.  
Y/N was here. Y/N was dating the mayor of Chicago. But most importantly, Y/N was unhappy.

You tried to hide your trembling hands by clasping them in front of you as you leaned into Ellis’s side ever so slightly. Why had he brought you up here? He knew you didn’t want credit for any of his accomplishments. You’d made that known long ago. So why?  
Ellis’s intent became clear as he turned to face you before slowly dropping down on one knee. The blood drained from your face and a brief feeling of nausea swept through you. Oh my fucking Chuck, Ellis was proposing. Ellis was proposing in front of hundreds of high profile people and they were all staring at you and oh no oh no oh no-  
“Y/N Y/L/N, I’ve known for a long time now that I want to spend my life with you. I want every part of my life to happen with you in it. I want to tell stories that start with, ‘Y/N and I...’ I want your life and my life to officially become our life. I love you, and that’s that. With that being said, Y/N, will you marry me?”

Dean was going to be sick. He was going to be fucking sick. That son of a bitch. What in the actual fuck? He’d quickly given Nicole a half-assed excuse about going to the bathroom in order to escape the room. He had no intention of staying to see her response. He couldn’t.  
Dean knew he was still in love with Y/N. He’d known it all along. He was also sure that Sam knew it too. She hadn’t returned any of their calls and messages for eleven long, painful months. She’d somehow erased any possible way for them to track her down, despite dating a famous politician. Fuck. If he hadn’t been so stupid that drunken night, Y/N might be in his arms now, holding his hand, kissing his cheek. She wouldn’t be with this douchebag.  
He couldn’t even fairly call him a douchebag. The guy seemed like a fucking class act, but Dean didn’t give a shit. He just wanted his girl back, who hadn’t even been his girl to begin with.  
The freezing December air hit Dean hard as he half-stumbled out a side door and into the alley it led to. He retched, but nothing came up. His vision was blurred with tears and anger directed towards himself.  
After several more moments of gross coughing, Dean collapsed onto his knees beside a dumpster. It was fitting, he mused. Since he was a piece of shit, he could sit outside with the goddamn trash, where he belonged.  
Dean didn’t notice that someone had followed him outside until an all-too-familiar voice called his name and he nearly choked.  
There Y/N was, standing in front of him in a gown fit for a princess, looking confused and miserable. “Dean, what…I don’t understand.”  
Dean reached forward to her, taking her soft hands in his. As if in a trance, he ran his fingers over her palms, as if memorizing them. He leaned forward, collapsing against her with his face buried in her stomach and arms around her hips. “Oh God, Y/N, oh my God.” He repeated his words over and over, unable to say anything else.  
Her hands moved to his head, smoothing his hair and making soft hushing sounds to soothe him. “Please, Y/N. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry for everything. I drove you away, I was an idiot. Fuck, please. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I can’t live without you. I’ve been so miserable- Sammy has too- we need you so much.”  
You knelt in front of him, taking his face in your hands. “Dean, stop. I forgave you a long time ago. In fact, I should be apologizing to you. I’m sorry for running away. I was stupid and scared, and when I met Ellis, I just…I felt some degree of normal. But none of this is me. I feel like I’m neck deep in all this overdone, played up shit and I can’t handle it. It’s all too much. I miss hunting with you and Sam. I know this is a total chick flick moment, but I don’t belong here. I belong with you, Dean.”  
As Dean looked into your tear-filled eyes, something in him clicked, and then his lips were on yours. You kissed back, sweetly yet passionately, and clung to his broad shoulders.  
“Sweetheart, I never stopped looking for you. I’m not even-”  
Y/N cut him off. “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I think I’m in some sort of shock. I just rejected a marriage proposal from the mayor of Chicago in front of all his friends and colleagues and tons of reporters because I saw you running out of the room. I should be freaking out right now, I think. But when I saw you, something in me settled into peacefulness.”  
After several moments of comfortable silence, Y/N spoke up again. “You know, I’m kind of freezing half to death, so we should probably go to the motel.”  
Dean leaned his forehead against hers and beamed. “You’re coming with me?”  
She snorted. “Of course I am, you dork. I just left my boyfriend of ten months as soon as I saw you. Now, I should warn you that I’m not going to be that easy to get rid of this time.”  
A smirk crossed his face. “Good to know, because I’m planning on keeping you around forever.”  
“By the way, were you crying?” Y/N asked, a slight hint of teasing in her voice.  
“No! What? No way. Dean Winchester doesn’t cry.”  
“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, tough guy. Lets go home.”  
That was the best sentence Dean had heard since before you’d left.


End file.
